The Bartender's Daughter

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The Bartender's Daughter Page 12

by Isabelle Flynn

Her shoulders loosened and she uncrossed her arms, exhaling a deep sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I know we need to make changes, but I keep hearing his voice in my head. He wanted everything to stay the same, Lee.”

  He pulled her hand from picking the worn buttons on the couch. “Are you going to make decisions based on what we think is best and give the business a chance, or keep things the same and watch it burn?”

  “I know.”

  “Look at me. We don’t have to make any hard decisions right now but you have to make me a promise. Trust me. I’m not trying to pull one over on you. If this is going to work, you need to give us a chance, and that starts with knowing I could never do anything to hurt you.”

  She climbed over and straddled him. “I promise I’ll give you a chance to explain things before I jump to the wrong conclusions again.”

  He kissed her and then took her back to bed. For the second night in a row, he caught more than four hours of sleep wrapped around Sam.

  ****

  She sat on the floor in her jersey shorts and worn college T-shirt. After washing her face, she felt awake enough to finally hear the real deal on the money situation at the bar. The conversation started rough. He ran through the numbers, vendors, taxes, and paychecks. It wasn’t intended to be a fun conversation but it was downright painful to hear how much money they needed to come up with to make things solvent.

  Now she knew why she allowed herself to get pulled into the daily problems of running the bar and the personal problems with Lee before finishing organizing the office. She’d been hiding from the facts here.

  “Why even bother? From this, it looks like we should close the doors tomorrow and cash in.”

  “It’s not over yet. We can still pull it out. This isn’t what you want to hear but some big changes could draw in a new crowd.”

  She dropped the papers down on the table and looked up at him. “What are you suggesting? Turn it into an Indian restaurant? A strip club?”

  “I think we should outsource the kitchen.”

  “Outsource the kitchen? What does that even mean?” She was momentarily distracted when he slipped on his black-framed glasses. She pulled her eyes away from his as he slid a piece of paper to her.

  It was a print out from the website of a local seafood shack. “My dad used to take me here for fried clams and hot dogs. The food was terrible. I always assumed it stayed open because of the location on the shore. What does this have to do with the bar?”

  He took off his glasses and peered down at her. “Maria, the previous owner’s sister, took it over three years ago. Since then, their chowder has been voted Best of Rhode Island each year, their fried clams for the last two, and their lobster roll last year.”

  “I guess it’s been a long time.”

  “I’ll take you there sometime this week. Maria wants to expand her menu but there’s no way to do that in the tiny kitchen. Without a dining room and being on the shore, she’s limited by the weather. She wants to be open year round and has looked into expanding but the town won’t give them the necessary permits. Moving them into Ray’s kitchen would be a boon to business.” He squeezed her hand. “I go there a lot in the summer, Sam. I’m friends with the Coelho family. Maria’s son, Jake, has become one of my closest friends. I haven’t gone to them with any definite plans. It’s just a possibility at this point, something to think about.”

  “I’m confused. Why not just hire Maria as our cook?”

  He shook his head. “She’s not going to leave her family’s business. It would be like two businesses sharing the same space. More like The Seafood Shack brought to you by Ray’s. We could rent out the kitchen and our service to them. It would take time for the staff to get used to filling out two tickets, one for drinks and one for food, but it can be done.”

  His enthusiasm was contagious. She could almost see it. “That’s perfect. The food was always an afterthought for my father. I can’t imagine that would get anyone’s nose out of joint. I’d really like to try her food first, but I think you might be on to something.” She stretched, letting some of the tension go. A little of the weight that had settled on her shoulders along with ownership of the bar lightened.

  “There’s more, Sam. Maria isn’t going to partner with us with the condition of the bar as it is.”

  “The kitchen?”

  “The kitchen, the dining room, the tables, chairs, serving ware, parking lot. All of it. There’s more to it than just opening the doors and telling them to have at it. We’ll need to make upgrades to almost everything.”

  “Everything? Why not just hire an actual chef and create a new menu?”

  “We might search for months or longer to find someone as talented as Maria. Her food brings with it a dedicated customer base and credibility we’d have to work up to.”

  She grabbed his pen and clicked it a few times before looking back up at him. “It’s going to be hard. If we change everything you mentioned, how will it even be the same place? Will we have to change the name, too?”

  “It’s not going to be easy, but I think we can modernize Ray’s without losing the essence of what your father started thirty-five years ago.”

  She pushed through the papers on the table until she found the one from the middle of the night. “How are we going to afford any changes when this is our financial situation?” She didn’t like the way his eyes avoided hers. He had money, lots of it, to see the bar through the changes. “No. I’m not going to let you do that.”

  “Do what? Save my business?”

  “No. Save mine. You can’t throw your money around to make this happen. It’s not right.”

  “That makes no sense. We have to put money into the business if we’re going to improve our situation.”

  “Then I’ll go to the bank to get a loan for my half.”

  “You can’t.”

  She needed to move. A little hard thinking and maybe she’d figure this out without using Lee’s money. “Why can’t I?”

  “Well, you can but you’re not going to be successful. Banks are all about making good bets and, as of right now, Ray’s is not a good bet.”

  “What are you suggesting I do?”

  “Stop pacing and listen to me. I’m not talking about a major renovation. Here.” He pulled out another piece of paper, this one a small pencil drawing. “This is what I came up with on my own. Maria and her family might have more requests and you might have things you want to do. This is just a basic run down. Painting, removing some of the outdated artwork, outdoor signage, these are things you can’t argue with. They need to be changed.”

  “You drew this?”

  He gave a short shrug. “It’s not perfect but you get the idea.”

  She did. She could see the coastal theme carried out in a classy, upscale way that brought in the bar’s New England roots. They could do this. Not chintzy or tacky but simple and tasteful. It was exactly the type of place she could see herself owning, and she had an idea about how to get the money to make it all happen.

  ****

  The house was smaller than she remembered. Lee’s Jeep idled at the curb for a few minutes as she looked over every detail. Forty minutes was all she had to revisit the house she grew up in before she had to be back at the bar. It was just long enough. One push of her thumb and the Jeep shut off. She felt every step as she made her way across the uneven concrete path.

  Her father’s key felt cold in her hand as she used it to open the door. The smell of paint and floor polish hit her. Her sister hadn’t wasted any time getting the house ready to sell. The furniture remained but all of her father’s knickknacks were gone. The throw rugs had been removed and it looked like the wood floors had been recently refinished.

  She walked through the house, little memories popping up. There was the kitchen table she sat at doing homework while her sister made dinner. The coffee table she crashed into while roller-skating through the hall and around the living room. She rubbed the small scar above her lip
. Michelle had cried and yelled while pulling her up and dragging her into the car for a trip to the hospital. Two stitches and an ice cream cone later, she’d sat in Michelle’s lap while she braided her hair.

  The bar was her father’s domain. The house, Michelle’s. Her father hadn’t been home all that often. It was all about the bar then. It needed him and she’d had Michelle after their mother passed away. Michelle had been there the night of her senior prom when she stood out back under the rose arbor for pictures. She had been the one to stay up late on the nights she suffered through one ear infection after another, her first period, strep throat, the concussion she received at nineteen when she got into her first car accident.

  Her footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as she walked to the back of the house. Her room was still blue, the walls still covered with posters of her favorite bands. Her desk had her old journals piled in a corner, a picture of her mother sat on top of them. She opened the closet doors and found every piece of clothing she’d left behind when she moved to New York still hanging. Her first communion dress hung beside the short little summer dress she wore the day she married Lee at Town Hall.

  She turned at the sound of heels clicking down the hallway. A second later, Michelle’s head popped through the door. She’d forgotten how much Michelle had been there for her, had forgotten so much about the way things used to be between them. She went with the moment and hugged her sister. Michelle’s hands hung out at her sides until they came up to wrap around Sam’s back. They stood like that for minutes while Michelle ran a hand down her hair.

  “I haven’t changed anything in here. I thought you’d want to go through it yourself.”

  She finally stepped back out of her sister’s embrace. “Sorry, Michelle. I should have been helping you out here all along.”

  Michelle stiffened, her eyes narrowed on Sam’s face. “Yeah, you should have, but you’ve been busy with the bar. I just finished up the rest of the house this weekend. I donated Dad’s clothes and most of his books. I’d do a yard sale for the furniture and odds and ends, but I really don’t think it’s worth the time.”

  She followed Michelle out of her old bedroom and down to the kitchen. “When should we meet with the Realtor?”

  Michelle sighed. “I’ve already done all that. God, Sam. The house goes on the market in two days. We need to pay off the mortgage. I can’t see paying taxes and insurance on a house no one is living in.”

  “Oh.” She’d spent the last three months mired in her own guilt, grieving over her father, angsting over Lee. Meanwhile her sister had been moving on, shouldering another family burden, like the six-year-old motherless sister she cared for over twenty years ago. “I’ve been selfish. I was so mad at you and it’s made me into a self-centered cow.”

  “You’re not a self-centered cow. I know you’re dealing with a lot.” She smacked the counter with her open hand. “This is why I wanted you to let go of it.”

  “I can’t sell it.” Sam pulled a stool from the island and sat down. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation at all.

  Michelle’s lips thinned and she looked away before turning back to her. “Because Daddy didn’t want you to? All the more reason to sell it. He’s gone. That bar isn’t going to bring him back. You don’t have to give up your life for it.”

  “I’m not giving up my life. Maybe I’m finally figuring out what I want to do with it.” She traced the pattern of the linoleum floor with her eyes. Michelle didn’t see what she did when she looked at the bar. There was just as much hope for her future as there were memories of the past. She looked up. “We’re going to change things, big things.”

  “Have you asked Lee about the loans?”

  “Yes.” She slipped off the stool and walked a few steps around the kitchen. “You need to explain some things to me. I’ve been quiet for too long and I’m through with letting you manipulate me.” She threw back her shoulders and took a deep breath. It was time for answers. “Why did you tell me you were sleeping with him?”

  Michelle’s head swiveled away from looking out the back window. She focused on Sam’s face before looking away again. “You were going to make a big mistake. You were turning into Mom. She was stuck, loving a man that dedicated his life to that stupid bar. I wasn’t going to let you throw away your future for some bartender.”

  “Dad loved Mom.”

  “He did, but that didn’t stop him from spending every waking moment there. Think about it. Do you really want your life to be wrapped around bar bills and beer deliveries? You only got a business degree because Dad wanted you to. Come on, Sam.”

  “There was more to it than the bar. I loved him, Michelle.”

  Her sister shrugged. “It was a crush and look what happened, you met Serena’s brother.”

  “I’m not with Dylan. I was never with Dylan. Chelle, Lee was more than just a crush. You made me think he cheated on me, and I left because I couldn’t bear to look at the two of you. How could you do that?”

  Michelle’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “You were dating?”

  She focused on Michelle’s face. “We were married. Still are.”

  Her sister’s face paled. She pressed her back into the counter and leaned back.

  “I believed you. Believed you so fully that I didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself. You were wrong then and you’re wrong now. If Daddy tried to control my life by leaving me the bar, what do you think you did?” She slid off the stool and walked away without waiting for a response.

  She was through with talking. There was a bar and a man waiting for her. It was time she took control of her life and reached for the things she wanted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What is he doing here?” Joanna asked the question under her breath as she put away the last of the glasses.

  The object of her irritated question walked into the bar, letting in a blast of humid air before the wooden door closed shut behind him.

  “Work stuff. Sam took the Jeep so I had him meet me here.”

  Jake walked up to the bar and pulled the messenger bag off his shoulder. “Hey Joanna, can you get me a water please?”

  “We’re not open for business. If you want a drink, you’ll have to get it yourself.” She tossed the dishcloth down and stalked off to the kitchen.

  “She knows I wasn’t the one that cheated on her, doesn’t she? Pat’s the idiot.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re guilty for being his friend.”

  Jake’s eyes stayed on the door she’d just walked through. “Acquaintance. I’m screwed either way. I just wish she hadn’t found out like that…”

  “You did the right thing. She wasn’t going to believe it until she saw it for herself.” Lee pulled his glasses off and placed them on the notebook. “She’ll come around. Give her some time. She’s still trying to get her feet under her.”

  “He isn’t worth it. He was never good enough for her.”

  “Yeah. He isn’t. At least he didn’t show up at the thing at the club the other night. I’m guessing you had something to do with that.”

  Jake ignored the comment and walked around the bar. He followed Joanna’s suggestion and poured himself a drink. He was still behind the bar when the door opened again. Jake’s eyes narrowed on the person walking in.

  Lee turned around in time to catch the keys Sam tossed to him.

  His friend reached out his hand across the bar. “Jake Coelho. We met at your father’s funeral but I doubt you remember me.”

  She only gave his hand a brief shake before she turned back to Lee. She barely moved her lips when she spoke. “Can we talk? In the office.”

  She waited until the door clicked behind him before she shouted. “What is that about? You promised me that I would have time to think about it. It hasn’t even been a day and he’s already making himself comfortable behind my bar.”

  “He was getting himself a drink because Joanna wouldn’t. He was friends with your father,
too. He feels almost as comfortable behind the bar as I do.”

  “He knew my dad?” Some of Sam’s ire faded and he pulled her into a hug.

  “Yes.”

  The tension in her shoulders loosened and she slumped into his embrace. “I’m sorry. I saw him back there and I lost it. So stupid.”

  “What happened at the house?”

  Sam stepped back and pulled on her hair tie, letting her blond hair fall in a wave around her shoulders. “Michelle showed up. I’m sure one of the neighbors called when they saw me walk in the front door.”

  He should have gone with her. Dealing with Michelle and the memories of seeing her old house wasn’t something she should have handled on her own. “What did she say?”

  “The same. I should sell the bar and go back to my glamorous life in New York.”

  “And Dylan?”

  She dropped her eyes for a second too long and he knew that Dylan had been a part of the conversation as well.

  “That’s it. I’m going to talk to her. I want to know what she has against me.”

  “You don’t have to. I already confronted her about the lies. I don’t know, Lee. Maybe you’re right. She’s jealous of me for some reason. She never wanted the bar but maybe she wanted you. Did something ever happen between you after I left?”

  “No. I never picked that up from any of my dealings with your sister.”

  She shook her head and looked up at him with tired, sad eyes. He wanted her to look the way she did this morning when she was still so full of hope and plans for the future.

  He pulled her into his arms again and kissed the top of her head, all the while trying to come up with some way to make her happy. “Was it hard to see the house?”

  “Yes. My room was the same as I left it. I have to go back and clear all my stuff out. She has it going on the market in a few days.” She wrapped her arms tight around him.

  “Already? Isn’t that fast? You need time to deal with everything.”

  “It’s been three months. Every room but mine is ready. I just have to accept it.”

  “Talk to Michelle. See if she can hold off on the sale.”

 

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